


Trains, Coke Cans, and an Older Brother

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Series: Tales of Brotherly Love [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Brotherly Love, Child Abuse, I could make a whole playlist for this fic, I'm Sorry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: When Mikey was a kid, he was obsessed with trains.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Gerard Way & Mikey Way, Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Series: Tales of Brotherly Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716712
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Trains, Coke Cans, and an Older Brother

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a rant based on a headcanon, but I’m glad about what it turned into :)

Michael James Way was obsessed with trains. It wasn’t like most early-childhood obsessions, where a kid liked trains because of Thomas. Mikey liked trains for an unknown cause. He just liked to stare at them and mutter to himself about how they worked and which part did what. He could identify a type of train just by looking at it, and after identifying it he’d rattle off a list of facts about it.

Every Saturday, Gerard would take Mikey to the railyard, just to let his brother stare at the trains. All the trains weren’t in use anymore, but Mikey didn’t see it that way. He referred to it as “the trains are sleeping.” 

Gerard always wanted to point out that the trains were actually dead, but he didn’t. Killing Mikey’s dreams would do more damage than shooting a bunny with a canon. 

For Mikey’s sixth birthday, Gerard put in all his allowance to get Mikey his first electric train set. It was different than all of Mikey’s train sets, since it wasn’t wooden or magnetic. It required simple engineering skills, which Mikey had more than enough of. 

Mikey was so excited to build it, so he asked Gerard for help. In most situations considering the age level, “help” would mean that Gerard did it while Mikey watched. But Mikey wasn’t normal, so “help” meant that Mikey built the whole thing, asking Gerard what certain instructions meant, and taking occasional breaks when he got frustrated. Gerard didn’t even touch any of the tools except the instructions. 

When the set was finished, Gerard crouched behind his brother to watch him turn it on for the first time. The six year old flinched as he flipped the switch. The light in the front of the model train flickered on, signaling the wheels to begin turning seconds later. The train smoothly ran its way around the track, not stopping until Mikey flipped the switch again. 

Mikey stared at his older brother with amazement. Gerard had the same expression, and was speechless. He wrapped his little brother in his arms, squeezing tightly. Mikey hugged back, whispering in Gerard’s ear, “You’re the best brother in the world.” 

Gerard’s eyes teared up. That sentence meant more than anything in the world to him. He couldn’t cry, though. “S-So are you,” he whispered back. “I’m so proud of you.” 

***********************************

Mikey’s train obsession continued through all of elementary and middle school, until it came to a crashing and burning end in sophomore year. 

For the science fair, Mikey had decided to make a solar-powered train model out of interconnected coke cans. He got the idea after Gerard had shown him an article about a guy who made a car out of recycled materials, and began working immediately. He used a large battery, wires, and metal paper clips to connect the cans. The paper clips also served as conductors to transfer energy from the battery to the coke cans, but people weren’t going to notice at first glance. 

He worked day and night on it, driving himself insane. He and Gerard still shared a bedroom, so he tried to be as quiet as possible when he worked at night. Gerard had insomnia anyway, but Mikey’s muttering and self-deprecating words didn’t help at all. 

One night, Gerard woke up to a crashing noise. He shot up in bed, immediately seeing Mikey had slammed his head on the desk. “It’s useless,” Mikey fumed, “I’m a failure.” 

Gerard bit his lip. “I’d ask if something was wrong, but I don’t think I need to.” 

Mikey jerked his head up and locked eyes with Gerard. “S-Sorry,” he whispered, “Just go back to sleep, I’m fine.” He stood up and walked over to Gerard’s bed, stroking hair behind his brother’s eyes. “Don’t mind me,” he murmured, “This is just a dream.” 

Gerard narrowed his eyes. “I dream in third person, Mikey. You’re not going to get off that easily. Tell me what’s wrong.” He sat up, forcing Mikey to sit next to him. Mikey tensed his shoulders. 

“It’s the same damn problem,” he said, “I see flaws, so I try to fix them. I fix them, but it’s not aesthetically pleasing anymore. I know it sounds dumb, but the judges are also judging how the project looks. The judging is for a grade, and you know how Dad is when it comes to grades.” 

Gerard sighed and kissed Mikey’s forehead. “It doesn’t mean you should skip out on your self-care routine,” he said, “You haven’t slept, eaten, or talked to anyone besides me in three days. Don’t you feel like crap?” He put his hand on Mikey’s stomach. “It’s really unhealthy.” 

Mikey remained quiet. He didn’t know what to say. He _did_ feel like crap, and he knew it was an unhealthy lifestyle, but he didn’t want to admit he was wrong. Instead of saying it directly that he needed assistance, he just leaned into Gerard’s side and said, “I’ll go to sleep if you stay next to me.” 

Gerard nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I won’t tell mom that you were up until three, but only if you promise to take care of yourself better.” 

Mikey smiled. “I won’t tell mom about Frank if you don’t talk incessantly about your dream tomorrow morning.” 

Gerard stuck out his tongue. “I’ll tell mom about Pete if you tell mom about Frank.” 

“After she finds out, can we stay together when we’re homeless?” 

Gerard chuckled softly. “Only if you don’t tell. Stay here and sleep, now.” 

***************************************

Mikey finished his project in about a month, and was prouder than ever at the science fair. He presented himself well, stuttering only a few times during his speech and presentation. The coke train — however shaky the name was — earned him a B+. He got points taken off for stuttering and lack of color on the trifold cardboard. Gerard watched from the side, giving his brother assurance every few minutes with a smile and a thumbs up. 

When the fair was over, Gerard ran over to Mikey and hugged him. “Oh my god, Mikey!” he cheered, “You did so well!” 

Mikey hugged him, then stepped back and looked around. “Wh-Where’s mom and dad?” 

Gerard bit his lip. “They couldn’t make it. They said they’ve seen you work with trains so many times that it wasn’t going to be any different. I yelled at them and stuff, saying they were never there for you, but I couldn’t change their minds. I’m sorry, bud.” 

Mikey felt as if his chest was going to collapse. He was never good enough for his parents. Nothing he did — nothing he ever accomplished — even earned a second of their attention. Gerard didn’t get attention either, so there weren’t any favorites. Gerard had practically become Mikey’s caretaker over the years. Mikey tried not to cry. Gerard was doing the same thing, but found a way to speak. “As soon as I turn eighteen, you’re coming with me. We have more than enough evidence of child neglect, but I don’t want a foster home for either of us. Do you think you can go one more week until my birthday?” 

Mikey blinked out tears. “Y-Yeah. I can.” 

They stood in awkward silence, waiting for the moment to pass. Frank found them a moment later and cleared his throat. “I hope I’m not interrupting a moment here or anything,” he said. 

Gerard snapped back to life and gave his boyfriend a kiss on the forehead. “You’re not,” he lied. Mikey wiped his eyes and kept quiet. He was normally quiet, but he also just needed time to think about what he had just heard from his brother. He drowned out the sounds of the world and just thought quietly. 

After a few minutes, he tapped Gerard’s arm. “I’m gonna go find Pete,” he said. Gerard nodded and released him. 

Pete was standing near the water fountain, tapping at his phone. “Hey, Mister Conductor,” he monotoned, “How was your presentation?” 

Mikey hugged him and sighed, “I got a B+. I stuttered.” 

Pete winced. “That sucks. I got a C. At least I passed...?” Mikey chuckled softly and ducked down to kiss him on the cheek. Pete blushed, then kissed him back. “The train of dirty thoughts is boarding at the station.” 

Mikey rolled his eyes. He and Pete both loved trains and railroads, so they were both educated in the slang and terminology. “Anchor it.” 

“Sorry, sir. The train is in motion.” 

“Get your head cut in, you gay cat! Goose her! Anchor it!” 

“I... I can’t get it to stop.” Pete smirked and put his hands on Mikey’s hips. “All I can think about is you and me going into the bathroom right behind us and taking the handicapped stall. I’ve never even seen you shirtless before.”

Mikey bit his lip. “We could get expelled.” 

Pete sighed. “I know. Never mind. Greetings from the DS, ready to pull drop er down.” Pete moved his hands from Mikey’s hips to his back. “You’re the hottest yardmaster I’ll ever meet.” 

Mikey kissed him and pushed him against the wall. “We’re probably going to find some way to do railroad role play when we’re older,” he pointed out. Pete giggled softly and offered a rough kiss, parting his lips for tongue. Mikey tensed his shoulders, but relaxed into it. 

No one walked by, so no one saw Pete and Mikey making against one of the brick walls of the school. It only ended when they heard a crash in the gymnasium, followed by the sound of Gerard shouting. There were some other sounds, too, but it ended in about 20 seconds when nothing could be heard except crying. 

Gerard was crying. 

Mikey stepped away from Pete and grabbed his hand. “C’mon,” he urged. Pete nodded and followed him into the gym. The two maneuvered the tables and setups, pausing in front of Mikey’s. Or... what used to be Mikey’s. The whole thing was torn apart, the coke cans stepped on and disconnected. It felt like a weight was being dropped on Mikey’s chest. None of it compared to Gerard, though. Gerard was on the floor, breathing heavily, coughing, and trying to stop the blood leaking from his nose. Frank was next to him with a black eye. Both were shaking, but Frank was holding Gerard’s wrist and whispering. 

Mikey immediately dropped to his knees and held his brother’s hand. “Gerard?” he sniffled, “Gerard, are you okay?” 

Gerard grunted as he sat up on his elbows. “A-Are you familiar with a kid by the name of Brendon Urie?” he coughed. 

Pete and Mikey exchanged a look. “Yeah, we’re familiar,” Pete sassed, “He’s been terrorizing me since sixth grade, and he started bullying Mikey when he and I started dating. Did he... did he do this to you? By himself?” 

Frank trembled and shook his head. It was like he had been stripped of his tough punk shell. “There were some other kids, but they didn’t give names. They kicked down the stand, broke your train, and beat up me and Gerard when we tried to get them to stop. They knocked him out–“ Frank gestured to Gerard, “–and called me a sissy when I got on my knees to help him. I threw a few punches for legal self defense, but they ran away.” He shuddered and hugged his knees. 

Mikey panicked, “Did they say anything else?” 

Frank shook his head, “No.” He avoided eye contact. 

Mikey narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying, Frank. Tell me: did Brendon say anything else?” He kept his words short and fierce. 

Gerard sighed. “He called you a retarded train wreck.” 

Mikey looked to his display, then at Gerard. His heart had been shattered. He’d been pecked at and pecked at by his peers about his love for trains, and he could only take so much. He’d tell himself, “stay strong,” but he even knew back then that he couldn’t make it the whole way through. Not if he wanted to love trains and be respected at the same time. 

“If you built a pillar,” he whispered, barely audible, “If you built a pillar out of diamonds, it’d be pretty sturdy. To most people and according to logic, nothing could break it. Especially if you made it thick, and kept it safe every day. At some point, you slowly stop taking care of it. You’ve seen that nothing has hurt it yet, so it’s safe to assume that nothing ever will. 

“But then, after a few months of independent stability, a woodpecker comes by and starts chipping at your pillar. The woodpecker has absolutely no reason to chip at it, since it’s made of diamond, not wood. The woodpecker uses it anyway, since it likes the look on your face when you see little dents forming on your beautiful pillar. 

“The chipping continues, becoming more and more intensive each time. And then... a few years later... the woodpecker comes back for the final touches. The pillar is barely standing upright, and logic would say it shouldn’t have lasted this long. Logic would also say that the woodpecker would only need a few taps in order for it to fall down. However, the woodpecker brought a drill. Such a huge weapon for such a weak substance. People are walking by, and over the years the same people have become fond of the pillar. The woodpecker fires up its drill, then takes the final blow to the diamond pillar. The pillar crashes down, bringing down everything it supported. The debris falls onto everyone walking by, killing them or injuring them seriously. 

“You come back to the pillar and see it destroyed. You also see everything it destroyed. It’s the worst chain reaction you’ve ever seen, and you should’ve blamed the woodpecker, but you can’t help but see that _you_ were the one who built the pillar in the first place. And then you wish...” Mikey shuddered and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “...you wish the building had fallen on you.” 

Pete, Gerard, and Frank stared at him in stunned silence. Mikey was normally the quiet one. He barely said more than a sentence per hour on his own free will; the rest was speaking when spoken to. But when he did say something, it was normally something worthwhile. Normally something you remember. 

But this was on a whole new level. The three other boys exchanged glances and nods before Gerard leaned forward and wrapped Mikey in his arms. “It’s okay...” he whispered. 

Mikey broke down sobbing. He buried his face in Gerard’s shoulder, holding him close. “It’s not okay. I hurt you.” 

“You didn’t hurt me. Brendon did.” 

Mikey started hyperventilating. “It was because of me. He hurt you because you were trying to protect something _I_ created. Don’t you think I should’ve been the one protecting it?” 

Gerard sighed. “I... look, Mikes. None of us knew it was going to happen. We couldn’t see the future. I was giving you a break. You had a few minutes to yourself because you’d been working your ass off trying to impress people. Don’t say it’s your fault, please. I can’t live with myself if I know you see yourself that way.” 

Mikey clung to his brother. “I’m done with railroads.” 

Gerard’s heart stopped. So did Pete’s and Frank’s. “Wh-What?” Gerard stuttered. 

Mikey bit his lip. “You heard me. I’m done with railroads and trains and metros. It was getting me nowhere in life, and it’s best if I stop before I hurt another person.” He pulled his head back to face Gerard. “I mean it.” 

Pete hugged him from behind. “Babe... you do know that–“ 

“Yes, I know we met because of our shared obsession. You can dump me if you want to. I just... everything’s broken because I hyperfixated on a stupid string of copper wires and coke cans. I was even a wreck during the creation of it. I... I should’ve stopped a long time ago.” 

Frank held back from saying anything. He didn’t know what to say. Ever since he met Mikey, trains had been the boy’s one true love. There was no such thing as Mikey Way without the immediate correlation of trains and railroads. Frank could never picture one without the other. In his mind, Mikey was fit to be an engineer (he could be a porn star on the side, but Frank wasn’t going to say that out loud). “M-Mikey, you can’t let it go. It’s a part of you.” 

Mikey fumed. “Well, Frank, maybe that part of me is cancer.” And with that, he stood up and walked away. 

He ran all the way home and bounded upstairs to his room once he got there. His dad got after him for slamming the door, but Mikey yelled back at him for missing out on one of the biggest moments of his life. He also yelled about how Gerard was hurt because no one else was there to help him besides Frank. 

“Why weren’t you at your post?!” Mr. Way shouted. 

In the heat of the moment, Mikey forgot that he was closeted. “I WAS TRYING TO TALK TO MY BOYFRIEND!” he argued. 

Mr. Way struck him across the face. “No son of mine is gay,” he lashed out, “You better dump that faggot — whoever he is — and find yourself a real girlfriend.” 

“Over my dead body! And don’t even think about hitting me again. I could already get you arrested for neglect, and now child abuse. Gerard has taken care of me for so long, I called him Dad for a few months when I was 10. He’s a better father at the age of 17 than you are at the age of 41!” 

Mr. Way slapped him again, harder. “Take that back.” 

“No. Get the hell out of my room.” 

“Get the hell out of my house. GET THE HELL OUT OF MY FAMILY!” Mr. Way took the leather shoe off of his foot and hit Mikey in the head, bringing it down harder with every blow. Mikey yelped in pain. _I could die tomorrow_ , he thought, _and today would still be worse_. 

He took the pain for three minutes, until he had been completely destroyed by his father’s shoe. His glasses were broken and he laid against the wall, panting nervously. Everything on him ached, and he felt like he was dying. He originally had come to his room to tear down his train posters and throw all his models into a trash bag, but he couldn’t do that now. He couldn’t move. It hurt so bad, and it was clearly something he deserved. He didn’t get attacked by Brendon, so he got beaten by his father. 

Gerard came home a few minutes later, and immediately went upstairs. He saw Mikey against the wall and didn’t ask any questions. He just kept his jaw tight and said, “We’re leaving. Now. Let me pack your bags, okay? You got any money?” 

Mikey nodded slightly. “Top drawer in my desk, I have a box. I bootlegged a couple movies a while back, so I’m set for about a month.” 

Gerard nodded and took the box out. He put it in an empty duffel bag, along with all of Mikey’s most comfortable clothes. He packed a blanket and pillow, too. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Mikey. I wish things were different, and tonight has been really freaky, but it’s something we work with. I’m gonna get you safe. We’re going to be okay. Just hold on.” 

Mikey shivered in his spot. “O-Okay. I love you, Gerard.” 

Gerard held back tears. “I love you too.” 

“You know you don’t have to be strong right now, right?” Mikey sighed and leaned back. He closed his eyes, trying not to cry. He’d done enough damage today. “D-Dad?” He whispered.

Gerard turned around. “Are you talking to me?”

Mikey nodded. “Yes, dad.”

Gerard sighed. “You don’t have to call me your dad.”

Mikey whimpered, “You’re the closest thing I have. I swear I’ll stop at some point, but I need to tonight. You’ve done nothing but helped me and you truly love me. I love you too.” 

Gerard smiled softly as he finished backing his clothes and tosses a few bundles of dollar bills into his duffel. “Baby, can you walk?” 

Mikey grunted softly as he used the wall to push himself up. His legs were weak. “D-Dad... I can’t–“ he fell flat on the ground. Gerard helped him up and carried him bridal-style. Mikey curled into his brother’s arms, sobbing gently. 

“Hey... it’s okay. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby brother. Just relax. We’re going to be safe.” 

Mikey shivered and nodded as Gerard cried his tall, lanky body out of the house. “Wh-Where are going?” 

Gerard kissed his forehead and whispered, “Don’t worry, baby brother. No one can hurt you. Not anymore, okay?” 

Mikey burrowed his head in Gerard’s shoulder and began to fall asleep. Gerard smiled down at him, gently singing to him as he crossed the street and walked the rest of the way into an alley. He leaned Mikey against the wall of a factory, holding the teenager’s limp hand as he unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out the blanket. “Okay, baby,” he whispered, I’m so sorry it had to be like this, Andy I know tonight’s been crazy. You’re going to get really depressed in the future, and it’ll be twice as bad if I die or something. But you can’t give up on the whole train thing. It’s got you going somewhere, and I love that direction.” 

Mikey began to stir, and he opened his eyes to Gerard. “If you weren’t my brother,” he slurred, “I’d kiss you right now.” 

Gerard chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind Mikey’s ear. “Just go to sleep, baby brother. I love you, and I promise I’ll ask frank if we can crash at his place tomorrow night. We’ll just sleep here tonight. You have the blanket, you have me, and I’ll keep you safe tonight.” 

Mikey smiled weakly and tugged at Gerard as they shared the blanket against the wall of a factory. Mikey fell asleep quickly, but Gerard took his time. So much was going on, and so much had happened. Mikey lost his personality, Gerard lost his hope, and they both lost their home. They were going to live off of the bare minimum for the next few months (maybe years), and it was all going to hell if Gerard’s mental illness got ahold of him. He held back tears, but decided it was worthless and wept into his hands. He cried as long as he could, not even pausing to wipe his eyes. 

“Damn...” he whispered. There was so much to say to Mikey about the whole situation, and he didn’t know how to say half of it. He did know how to say the main thing, though. He _had_ to say the main thing. He kissed Mikey softly on the cheek and whispered in his ear, “I am so proud of you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry... I haven’t cut in a week, so I had to do some form of rant or long fic to keep myself from doing it. Trying to quit.


End file.
